


Strawberry Serendipity

by Lorem_Yipsum



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Comedy, Confusion, M/M, Winter, accidental creeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorem_Yipsum/pseuds/Lorem_Yipsum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jihoon warms up in a coffee shop when a stranger hops into his booth and starts a conversation that gets weirder with every second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry Serendipity

 [](http://s989.photobucket.com/user/Dominik_Dillhof/media/Strawberry%20Serendipity%20401x640_zpswrq4m3ek.jpg.html)

 

Snow covered Seoul. Any train not already cancelled was delayed indefinitely. Jihoon had no idea when he’d get to go home. Cussing at the white, muddy ground, he marched out of the station. Fluffy flakes fell on his mismatched clothes and he hated every one of them. He hadn’t expected to need more than a thin jacket and a beanie and thus not brought anything else. The train companies weren’t the only ones taken by surprise when winter decided to come a little early.

The clouds were so thick, the street lights were already on, even though it was only mid-afternoon. At least it wasn’t windy. That was the only reason Jihoon didn’t have frost bites yet.

 _I hate this. I hate this. I hate this,_ he thought with passion as he made his way through the area around that station. He had no idea where he was even headed, so he just kept stomping on the rising snow layer and slowly turning into the world’s angriest snowman. It was a large street, but nobody was out in this weather. The silence was eerie.

In a way he appreciated the atmosphere. In a much larger way he wished to cast himself into an open fire to get the ice out of his bones.

 _Well, can’t keep freezing my fingers off,_ he thought to himself and entered the next coffee shop he came across.

It was a tiny place. Bright, wooden furniture – mostly booths – could sit maybe twenty people. Currently he was the only costumer. Pop music at low volume was the only noise.

He took off his beanie and shook the snow off before walking further in. The bored, elderly woman behind the counter glanced disapprovingly at his strawberry colored hair. _Yeah, f*ck you, too, you ancient gremlin,_ he thought and smiled at her, making sure to let his fingers run through his pink mop just to irritate her some more.

Jihoon took his time staring at the menu behind the woman before deciding he’d rather have something to nurse so he could loiter a little.

“Do you make your hot chocolate with water or milk?”

He wasn’t trying to be difficult. It wasn’t his fault humanity had been led astray in this respect by… something evil. Capitalism, probably, or white people.

“With water, usually,” the old woman said and scratched her stomach through her apron.

“Could you make an exception?”

She shrugged. “Of course, young man.” The tone of her voice made it sound like an insult. She glared at his hair again as if a harsh enough stare could drain the pink out of it.

 _I’m your only costumer, you dumb cow. You should grovel,_ Jihoon thought and kept his smile up. “Perfect. One cup, please. Extra-large, extra cream.”

He paid for the clearly overpriced cup and waited, fingers drumming on the counter, idly looking around. _It’s a nice place, really,_ he pondered, _too bad this tool’s working here._

He got his humongous cup and wandered as far back as possible, to the last booth. The old woman wouldn’t see him there. Good. He really didn’t wish for an hour of awkward eye contact.

Jihoon sat down with a sigh, letting the cup warm his icicle fingers. He pulled his phone out of his pocket habitually, remembered he had only twenty percent battery left and put it back. Then he spent a minute studying the menu on the table as if it were a thrilling crime novel.

_Maybe I’ll get a brownie. Really, they should give me one for free, me being the only costumer they’ll see all night._

The hot chocolate tasted acceptable. Nothing to write home about but it warmed his stomach. Speaking of home, he should text his people in Busan he wasn’t making it.

As he typed he wondered if he should ask the gremlin whether he could plug in his charger somewhere.

Just as Jihoon pressed send, somebody else entered the shop.

_Not the only costumer after all, huh? There goes my right to a free brownie._

Now he regretted sitting out of sight of the entrance out of pettiness. He couldn’t see the new comer and didn’t even have a window to stare out of and enjoy the snowy spectacle. When would he ever learn not to make life harder for himself just to punish other people? _Probably when it stops being fun._

To Jihoon’s surprise the other person didn’t sit down somewhere at the entrance but wandered around the place until they caught sight of him.

 _Wow, cute face, strong jaw,_ he thought at the young man who’s eyes lit up as their gazes met. The stranger walked right up to him, placed his coffee on the table and shuffled into the booth, sitting opposite of Jihoon.

“Hi,” said the stranger.

“Hello,” Jihoon said, intending to give it the edge of a question but failing in surprise. Why would this guy choose the only occupied booth?

_Here comes the awkward eye contact. Can’t this weirdo sit literally anywhere else? Ugh. Today has been so annoying, this might as well happen._

The stranger took off his thick jacket, revealing a tight tee shirt.

_Wow, those shoulders are broad. He sure is- Biceps! Holy f*ck. Daddy._

With a huge smile the guy reached across the small table. “I’m Seungcheol. Call me Cheollie. Most people do.”

“I’m… Jihoon.” Still baffled, he grabbed the offered hand and squeezed it quickly. Cheollie’s hands were still cold, of course.

The guy who wasn’t a stranger anymore, but strange nonetheless, pointed at Jihoon’s hair. “I didn’t think this would fit anyone, but I have to say, you pull it off well. Adds a little spice, but totally goes with the cuteness aesthetic. You _are_ super cute, by the way.”

“…Thanks.”

 _Damn, that’s some aggressive flirting,_ Jihoon though. _Does he always go up to random boys and try to drag them into his bed?_

Cheollie didn’t hesitate to keep the conversation going. “You look really young, like, from a certain angle, you know? We kind of share that. People on Instagram say I look like I’m aging backwards. Hehe. You know what I mean?”

“…I guess.”

“It’s all filters, though. I hope you don’t think I’m ugly or anything.”

_Not just dealing out compliments, but fishing for them, too. He’s got to by the most extraverted guy in town. Or just crazy._

“No no, you’re… looking good.” Jihoon took an impossibly slow sip from his drink to make sure he was very obviously not going to say anything more. The guy was hot, alright, but Jihoon wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of boy.

_Basic politeness won’t kill me, but if you think I’ll flirt back you’re in for disappointment, Mister Biceps._

Cheollie grinned. “Not as cute as you, obviously. You’ve gotta be brilliant at aegyo. Can you do some? I’d love to see that.”

_Maybe I’d love to see my hands around your throat, f*cker._

“No… not in the mood right now.”

“Say, Jihoon, what- Hey, can I call you Hoonie?”

_What happens if I say no? Let’s see._

“Nope.”

“Oh, ah.” Cheollie was slightly flustered but only for a split second. “Like, ’s that a sore spot or…? Never mind, if you don’t wanna talk about it. So, Jihoon, where are you from?”

“Busan, actually.”

“Wow, I thought I heard it in your accent. Could have sworn.”

 _I do_ not _have an accent, a**hole._

“Ha, that’s funny,” Jihoon said and took another sip he hoped conveyed that the conversation wasn’t going to keep running the way it did. The stranger was nice to look at – very nice – but everything about it was getting creepier by the minute. Why was the guy so aggressive anyway? Jihoon did appreciate how tight the shirt was, though.

Cheollie followed his gaze and grinned, flexing his biceps. “Like what you see?”

_F*ck._

The easiest way out Jihoon could think of was to make the guy talk about himself. He was obviously a total narcissist.

“So, Cheollie…” _I have no f*cking idea what to ask him._ “Crazy weather we’re having, am I right?” _I’m an idiot._

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure I’d make it here. Looks like no one but us two wants to be out and about. I’ve never been here before, have you?”

“Uh… no.”

“The coffee’s alright I’d say, but a little pricy. The barista doesn’t seem like the friendliest one of her craft, though. I know a bakery a few streets down, where they make fantastic chocolate cookies. We could go there sometime. You obviously like chocolate if what I smell in your cup is- Wow, do they make it with milk here? I’ve never seen that before anywhere. I can’t stand the watery stuff. I’m too shy to ask them to change it, though.”

Had this weirdo just implied they should go out sometime? _This is too creepy. I need to leave._

Jihoon tried to gulp down his drink but only got to about half the volume. The bottom part was still too hot to get down his throat. _Why did I take extra-large? Why?_

He could have bailed anyway, but he had paid for the cup and it made the impoliteness of leaving even more obvious when an unfinished drink would stay behind and it was still cold out and he didn’t know where the next coffee shop or bar was to flee to.

Jihoon was trapped by the sunken cost fallacy, social conventions and climate change.

_The world hates me, but what else is new?_

“So Jihoon,” Cheollie interrupted his rising panic. “Any hobbies? I’d love to know more about you.”

_Okay, calm down. Let’s just not say anything that could get me stalked._

“I like to compose.”

“Music?”

_What is the snarkiest possible answer?_

“No, composing myself. I have to calm down a lot around other people.”

“Oh… ah… okay. Um.”

Jihoon couldn’t help it. He had to giggle, as much as he didn’t want to. “Yes, music.”

Now Cheollie was giggling, too, but with his smile half hidden behind his hand.

_Why does he seem so shy when he’s so violently flirting? How does that fit into one person? Is he Golum or something?_

“That’s cool,” Cheollie said. “I rap. I’m not the best but it’s a fun hobby. Looks like we’re both into music. Wait, do you like rap or are you, like, a classical composer kinda guy?”

“Rap’s okay. I’m more of a vocalist. Do you just rap on your own?”

“Nah, I have some friends who like to join me. Two tall idiots who are probably secretly banging each other and a kid who knows English. I mean, the kid’s a friend. They’re not banging the kid. You’ve gotta imagine an oxford comma there.”

_He seems so normal. Still, total creep._

“Anyway,” the odd guy continued after Jihoon remained silent. “I’m from Daegu, originally. But now I live here. As I mentioned, I kind of know the area. My apartment is pretty close-“

 _So he_ is _trying to drag me into his bed._

“-which remind me of a couple other places, actually. I don’t know how often you come to Seoul, but there’s a bunch of stuff we could do next time-“

_Next time? Excuse you?_

“-like that one restaurant… can’t remember the name. How do you like your ramen? I can’t really eat anything too spicy. Oh, I still haven’t asked what kind of music you compose.”

“Pop, mostly. Anything with a good beat goes, really. But I’m always trying to expand. People say I have a fairly unique style.”

_Oh, great. Now I’m rambling. Well done, creep, getting me to talk about my interests. Smooth move. I wonder how many boys that’s ever worked on._

He took another sip. The chocolate was cooled down and his fingers were warmed up. He’d just have to find a way to politely say goodbye and get the hell out.

That moment Cheollie reached across the table and put his hand on Jihoon’s. The pink haired boy turned into a statue. This wasn’t aggressive flirting anymore. This was a beginning assault.

_Don’t look panicked. If he sees the fear in my eyes he knows he caught another victim. I can still make it out alive if I stay calm._

“So,” the creeper said, “I don’t know where you live but if you’d have to walk through the cold for a while we can go to my place instead. I promise my apartment is heated nicely. It’s only three streets down from- Oh, sorry.”

Cheollie let go and fiddled with his pocket, pulling his phone out with some difficulty. Jihoon dared to breathe again.

Maybe this was the phone call that rescued him. If he raced for the door now he might get away. Unless the old gremlin was in on the whole thing and had locked them in this coffee-shop/death-trap. But it was no call, only a text message.

“Who is it?” he asked full of hope anyway.

Cheollie only glanced at the screen. “Just my blind date apologizing he couldn’t make it through the sno-“ He looked up with cold terror in his eyes. “ _I. Want. To. Die._ ”

The creep stared as if Jihoon had just turned into Lord Voldemort. An awkward silence settled for a few seconds. Finally, the penny dropped for Jihoon and he laughed so hard, no sound came out. With incredible relieve he threw himself around his side of the booth, barely breathing through his gaping mouth.

“Y-y-you’re…”Cheollie stuttered, “You’re not my blind date. You’re some guy with pink hair. Of all the people I could run into you’re the one person who has the same identifying feature as... f*ck.”

They sat in silence until Jihoon dried his tears with a napkin.

“I’m so sorry,” Cheollie said into his hands. “I’m so so so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must have thought of me. I’m so sorry. I’m-“

Jihoon sighed. “It’s fine. I _did_ think you’re a creep, but now that that’s cleared up… Are you going to meet your blind date some other time?”

“I guess. Why?”

“I’d like to see that bakery one day. I _do_ like chocolate cookies.”

Cheollie grinned as if he were trying to split his face. “Gladly, Jihoon. Um, can I call you Hoonie now?”

“Nope.”

“Never mind, then. I’ll uh, I’ll just give you my number, alright?” he said and scribbled digits onto a new napkin.

Jihoon was relieved Cheollie didn’t mention his apartment again. He had judged right, then – the guy was actually half-decent.

Carefully, he stuffed the napkin in the inner jacket pocket where it wouldn’t get wet and readied himself to get up. “I’m actually going back to Busan for a little while but I promise I’ll shoot you a text when I’m in Seoul again.”

“Great. I’m so very sorry this happened.”

“At least I have a story to tell at the family dinner.”

Cheollie chuckled. “I hope it’ll be received well. Just in case… you know, in case we work out. You and I.”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself there, champ. It’s a bakery, not matrimony.”

“Sure, sorry.”

The hot chocolate had turned lukewarm. Jihoon was ready to leave. There was a small chance the train’s delay time was known by now. He could at least tell his family if he’d miss more than one day or not.

“You know what, Cheollie? I’ll give you a call when I’m in Busan. We should get to know each other without wrong preconceptions.”

“I’d like that.”

_Five minutes ago I wanted to run away from him. Now I kind of regret having to leave. It’s that f*cking shirt. Why is it so tight? Who gives him the right?_

Clad in jacket and beanie again, Jihoon stood beside the table.

“Bye then, creepy stranger.”

“Bye, not-my-blind-date.”

Jihoon bowed and left.  The gremlin wasn’t even at the bar anymore. He entertained the thought of snatching a few sugar packets but his hands were already in his pockets. He kicked the door open.

It was even darker outside, now that the afternoon had given way to early evening. Streetlights flickered as he walked across the road. The snowfall had stopped, but wind was picking up. He ducked his head and marched quickly, finding some enjoyment from the crunching under his boots. The eerie silence was still there, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Would he actually call the guy? And more to the point, would he see him again?

 _Ah, it’s been one hell of a strange night,_ he though. _This might as well happen._

His nose got cold and soon his fingers turned back into icicles. Yet all the way to the train station, Jihoon felt warm inside. Maybe even a little fuzzy.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was itching to write something with a solemn, forlorn atmosphere but for the life of me couldn’t think of a plot. So here’s this odd thing instead. It barely meets my own standards but it’s Jicheol ( ._.)
> 
> Eh. I guess I’d read it if I hadn’t written it. Why do I always make them meet in coffee shops?
> 
> Did you like it? Tell me if yes (=^.^)


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